


Peripatetic

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [140]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>perpatetic: adjective: per-ə-pə-ˈte-tik: traveling from place to place, especially working or based in various places for relatively short periods.</p><p>late Middle English (denoting an Aristotelian philosopher): from Old French peripatetique, via Latin from Greek peripatētikos ‘walking up and down,’ from the verb peripatein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peripatetic

Admittedly, he was a bit peripatetic. At Uni, and in Med School, he was never home enough to care where he lived, so he would move whenever the mood struck him; moving didn't take long, as he had very little. During his tours, he had even less, and by the time he found himself in that last bedsit, all of his belongings fit in one small case.

When he landed at Baker Street, he had placed his few belongings in the dresser and sat on the bed, took a deep breath, and wondered why it felt different this time.

Eventually, he would realize his home wasn't the walls, the seventeen steps, or even the chair that fit him like a glove. His home was the snoring man who was cocooned around him; lanky, possessive arms and lean, powerful legs kept him pinned to the present. John leaned back into Sherlock's chest, and a small, pleased snort escaped from those lips that drove him slightly mad. He kissed his lover's fingers and felt an answering squeeze in return. At that moment, it struck him that all of his journeys, each misstep, each halfhearted relationship, every choice he ever made had led him here, not to a place or a career, but to this odd, beautiful man who nuzzled his damaged shoulder with his cold nose at 2 am.

"John."

"Mmmmm?"

"I know."

"Hmm?"

"My home is wherever you are, too."

John turned in the detective's arms, and looked into those eyes that seemed to know everything. He kissed him lightly and sighed. "I didn't know, that I could belong somewhere, to someone, until-"

"I know, love. Go back to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."


End file.
